


The Calm Before The Murder

by dk323



Series: Merlin's Fall [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, M/M, Merlin is a god, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dk323/pseuds/dk323
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the protective confines under Stonehenge, Merlin is healed and he wakes up, but he’s not the same Merlin Arthur once knew. This wasn't the reunion Arthur was expecting. But then Arthur is forced to face a new reality, his years living in the immortal world coming to an abrupt end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Calm Before The Murder

**Author's Note:**

> I go into a little more detail about the ‘human realm’ in this part with the realm broken down even further into multiple worlds. A comparison would be a *big* loaf of bread being the human realm and each slice of bread is each world within the realm/bread loaf. ;) The world of the gods and goddesses aka the immortal world is another loaf of bread entirely. 
> 
> The talent at the harp Bran has is from The Dark Is Rising book series. And the reason for it is the same reason as in the book series. His physical appearance (as an albino) is from the TDIR series too.
> 
>  **Rehashing of familial set-up**  
>  Merlin’s grandfather is also Gwydion’s grandfather – sometimes I just describe him as Merlin’s grandfather or grandfather to both of them (and to Ceridwen’s children of course – her two children are mentioned in this installment). Also, Merlin’s grandfather is the retired/former god of magic while Merlin’s father Hephaestion is the current presiding god of all magic.
> 
> Merlin’s Aunt Ceridwen is Gwydion’s aunt too. And Hephaestion is Gwydion’s uncle. Merlin’s grandfather had Ceridwen, Hephaestion and James (in that order) with three different females (James’s mother is the only human of the three – she was a human Queen).

**Title:** The Calm Before the Murder  
 **Author:** dk323  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Warnings:** swearing, angst  
 **Word count:** 11,988  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Merlin/Arthur  
 **Disclaimer:** The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The Dark Is Rising book series is property of Susan Cooper.  
 **Summary:** In the protective confines under Stonehenge, Merlin is healed and he wakes up, but he’s not the same Merlin Arthur once knew. This wasn't the reunion Arthur was expecting. But then Arthur is forced to face a new reality, his years living in the immortal world coming to an abrupt end.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“You know this doesn’t look like we’re underground,” Arthur noted to Merlin’s cousin Gwydion.

They were about ten feet under Stonehenge in what looked like a snow-white ice palace. Beforehand, Arthur thought it would be just a lot of dirt around him and that he would be surrounded by darkness. But it was clear that the underground haven had been long ago transformed from a creepy possibly hellish place to a place like heaven. All light and peace. 

The floor consisted of diamond-shaped tiles and the room they were in had purely rounded walls like they were inside a tube. Fortunately the ice felt firm at Arthur’s feet and was a strange type of ice that wasn’t ice. An ice floor that magically looked like ice, according to Gwydion, but felt like a common smooth tiled floor. 

There was a centrally-located hearth as well that held blue and white fire. The blue and white flames were always in some sort of beautiful artistic design. Arthur recognized some of the Celtic knotwork and rune symbols that his adoptive godly family found significant. 

“I hope that’s a compliment,” said Gwydion in a mock-threatening voice. He grinned at Arthur. 

Gwydion was nearly finished with healing Merlin who was lying, still in deep sleep, upon what looked like an ice bed. But Gwydion had assured Arthur that the bed was still as soft and comfortable as a mattress. At least the pillow below Merlin’s head looked like a pillow.

One of the best features about this underground palace was the magically controlled temperature so that it wasn’t cold as it should’ve been in a place of ice. Arthur felt the warmth of a perfect spring day rather than the biting cold of a winter freeze. 

Over the past few hours, he’d alternated between sitting in one of the cushioned chairs by the hearth and pacing back and forth anxiously as he hoped Merlin would be all right. Arthur tried not to pace too much as he didn’t want Gwydion to lose concentration. More than once over the last few hours, Gwydion had told him to stop pacing – that the noise was distracting him as he directed his magic to heal Merlin in an efficient manner. 

Yet walking helped him feel that he was doing something. Since he couldn’t actually assist in healing Merlin, the small act of moving his legs felt like he was contributing instead of just sitting there and staring at the shifting fire of the hearth. Gwydion had threatened that he’d freeze Arthur in place if he didn’t just relax and stop pacing. Yet he never went through with the threat. After Gwydion reassured him that Merlin would be fine multiple times, Arthur had mercy on him and stopped pacing. So here he was, slumped in the far too comfortable chair, waiting for well, the waiting to be over, and for Merlin to wake up.

“It’s a compliment. So you really constructed all this with your magic?” Arthur asked, waving his hand at the whole area around him.

“My father gave me this as a project to do. I don’t know. Maybe he needed me to focus on something other than how many creative ways I can hurt Muirden,” Gwydion said, rolling his eyes. 

Arthur nodded. The fire leaped then and formed a crescent moon outlined in blue. “Ah yes. Understandable.”

“I’m still in the middle of the project, of course. There are many worlds within the human realm, as you know, and a Stonehenge in each of those worlds. Except for one, I think, anyway… that’s a lot of them to go through.”

Since Gwydion had directly transported them under Stonehenge, Arthur hadn’t been able to see the intriguing stone slabs above ground in person. He had seen photos of Stonehenge though courtesy of Gwydion. Arthur could understand the curiosity of his fellow humans regarding the heavy stone slabs – some slabs placed upon two slabs and seeming to form a kind of mystical gateway.

In what felt like another lifetime ago, before Merlin’s sacrifice, Gwydion had joked to Arthur that his and Merlin’s grandfather used to spend time in his younger days, naked, just leisurely taking in Stonehenge. Sometimes their grandfather had just lain down in the center of the structure and gazed up at the stars. Merlin had been there at the enlightening conversation and he’d told Gwydion to shut up and stop making ridiculous stories. But Gwydion was too busy laughing to care about the reprimand. 

Arthur never did find what the real story was behind the creation of Stonehenge. He didn’t doubt Merlin’s grandfather, the previous god of magic, had a role in the creation. Yet he couldn’t reconcile the image of the venerable man with white hair yet a smooth ageless face with the man Gwydion reportedly said had spent quality time naked at Stonehenge. 

Arthur had only seen Merlin’s grandfather a few times as he was retired and seldom made appearances. Yet when Arthur had met with Merlin’s grandfather, he found him to be likable, always with a smile, not unlike Merlin’s father. Merlin’s grandfather was always interested in how Arthur was getting on in the world of the gods and goddesses or the immortal world as Arthur called his present home. 

“You’ve done an incredible job so far,” Arthur remarked. Then thoughtfully, he brought up, “Hey, just in case something unexpected has happened to Merlin…not that you and I can’t handle it just fine, but Muirden was clearly involved in harming Merlin, and he can play dirty. He might have done something else to Merlin besides physical harm. I want to be prepared.”

Gwydion frowned. “Damn Muirden,” he muttered under his breath. “Don’t worry, Arthur. My father will come if necessary. And I don’t feel all that guilty for bothering him because he is my father after all. He’s used to it. It’ll be fine, I’m sure. I can’t imagine it coming to needing my father’s involvement,” said Gwydion. “I should stop in case I jinx myself.” He tilted his head, winking at Arthur. 

“Yeah, that would be wise,” said Arthur wryly.

“Maybe something will happen,” Gwydion amended. “But Merlin’s only human…and I’m just healing him. When he wakes up, the trouble will come in explaining to him where he is and who we are. That will be the worst of it though in my opinion.”

Fleetingly, Arthur thought to suggest the god of magic coming to help. But Arthur let the idea die quickly. He was much too busy after all. Since being claimed by Merlin’s father, Arthur had been seeing more of him to where Merlin’s father insisted Arthur call him by his first name, Hephaestion. That it was the least he could do after he had claimed Arthur. Through greater interaction, Arthur witnessed firsthand the amount of stress Merlin’s father dealt with as he solely shouldered the weight and responsibility of his many duties. Without Merlin, his heir, to assist him in his magical duties for the past few weeks, the burden rested on his shoulders.

Magic existed in every world though most humans could not see it. Gwydion’s father was guardian to humans who possessed magic. Meanwhile, Merlin’s father studied and took care of the magic outside of the human body. Natural magic. The magic of nature: the flora and the fauna.

As grand overseer, Merlin’s father made sure his duties, the duties of his younger brother James, and of his elder sister Ceridwen – the goddess of creative magic who was responsible for the creativity that inspired artistry and other such enlightening works of brilliance -- were all being carried out satisfactorily. 

Frequently, Arthur had felt his heart go out to Merlin’s father. One time Merlin’s father had voiced his wandering thoughts. Arthur had heard the pain in Hephaestion’s voice as he’d spoken about conceiving another child what with Merlin being human now. Arthur was well aware that Merlin’s father couldn’t ask Merlin’s dryad mother to bear another child with him. After all, according to her, she felt she was only fated to bear Merlin with the god of magic and no other child. Merlin’s mother would not be shaken from the strength of that conviction.

Hephaestion was as ageless as other gods – forever in his thirties, his physical appearance changing little since Arthur was a young boy. He had a strong, handsome face and a charming persona everyone praised. Arthur knew from the ladies of the immortal world, the goddesses that is, how Hephaestion was an attractive man. While the god of magic could easily gain a consort; it was a task he shied away from. Arthur knew how much he cared for Merlin and didn’t want to make it seem like he would be ‘replacing’ him with another child. 

Luckily Hephaestion had let the matter drop, understanding that Arthur missed Merlin just as much too, and this topic was, perhaps, too soon to delve into. Arthur had agreed. And a small part of him thought that if Merlin’s father had another child, another designated heir, then that truly meant Merlin was never coming back. 

That Merlin would never be a god again.

“Arthur,” Gwydion spoke up. “I think Merlin’s waking up now.”

And that announcement had Arthur up and out of his chair before he realized he was moving. 

Arthur reached the ice bed Merlin lay upon. He grasped his hand.

“He’s healed? Completely?” Arthur looked at Gwydion.

“Yes he is. Oh would I love to give Muirden a what for. How dare he do this to Merlin?” Gwydion said angrily.

“What a bastard,” Arthur acknowledged.

Then he turned his attention to Merlin whose dark eyelashes were fluttering in a clear sign that he would awaken soon.

Gwydion bit his lip uncertainly. “Hm, best you let go of his hand since he’ll consider you a stranger,” he advised Arthur.

Arthur frowned, understanding the issue but dearly wishing that Merlin still saw him as a friend instead of an unknown entity. Such was the trouble with being reborn.

He and Gwydion watched as Merlin’s eyes opened. Yet the bright, happy blue of his eyes that they had both anticipated wasn’t what they saw then.

Merlin’s eyes were a fierce golden colour, even glowing out past the confine of his eyes. 

Merlin looked alien to him. Even before the energy storm, when Arthur had seen him perform great acts of magic, Merlin’s blue eyes always shifted to a warm, friendly golden colour. A colour that never made Arthur fearful of Merlin as he did now looking at him.

Merlin sat up and stared at each of them in turn, his look cool and uncaring. He spread both his arms wide and –

“Merlin, what the hell?” Gwydion exclaimed when Arthur was too shocked to even speak.

Then Arthur saw Gwydion tossed backwards a few feet, and he himself was also thrown back so that he hit the leg of a chair. 

He felt bruised from the impact as he fell unpleasantly to the ground, but at least he hadn’t been knocked unconscious. It was clear, however inexplicably, that Merlin had regained his godly powers. While Merlin just being a human possessing magic would have also been a possibility, Arthur knew the nature of gods all too well after his years living in their world. Without a doubt, Merlin was a god again. And he wasn’t handling the situation well at all. What was Merlin aiming at – attacking him and Gwydion, his cousin, like that?

Merlin climbed off the bed and advanced on Gwydion.

“What have you done to me?” He demanded. 

“I only healed you. You’re not acting like yourself, Merlin.” Gwydion said, looking at him oddly.

Yet Merlin made no sign he’d relent, his viciously glowing eyes sparked like fire. Arthur half-feared Merlin would set Gwydion on fire with the anger he was displaying.

“Merlin, calm down,” Arthur spoke to him, his tone surprisingly firm considering how unnerved he felt.

Merlin shot him a look. “Oh shut up,” he said to Arthur flippantly.

The tone left Arthur wondering if the best strategy for him was to stay quiet and not draw attention to himself. It was a defense mechanism he’d had to learn as a human living amongst gods and goddesses. 

If Merlin remained in such a rage, then Arthur wasn’t so sure Merlin wouldn’t try to kill him. Gwydion was right, Merlin wasn’t acting like himself. He would never speak to Arthur in that way. Merlin would never look at Arthur like he wished to truly hurt him.

Merlin had become a god again at the worst possible time as something inside him was stopping him for being reasonable, from controlling himself into a more calmed state. That something was preventing the true Merlin, the Merlin Arthur loved and respected from coming forth. 

Gwydion put out his hand, but the show of readying for attack was half-hearted at best. After working to heal Merlin for hours, Arthur could comprehend Gwydion’s reluctance to attack and harm his cousin. 

“Don’t speak like that to Arthur. You have to calm down, Merlin. Can’t you see this isn’t you? You were human not a moment ago, the change back to being a god has addled your mind, I think.”

“Me, a human?” Merlin said, sounding as if the idea was distasteful to him.

Well Merlin was wasting no time disassociating himself with being a human, Arthur thought unhappily.

This wasn’t the son Hephaestion had raised. Arthur dearly hoped that whatever had overcome Merlin was a temporary problem – that the longer he remained a god and adjusted to the change from human to god, the old Merlin would return.

But this was Muirden’s handiwork. Who the hell knew what that wretched god had in store for Merlin? 

Then Merlin seemed to deflate, the anger and tension appeared to leave him. Arthur wished he could help Merlin. But whatever Merlin was dealing with was beyond Arthur’s depth. Even the fact that Merlin seemed to have regained his past life memories – or at least some of them based on his present obsession of regaining his crown – did little to make Arthur feel better about the troubling situation.

“Merlin,” Arthur addressed him quietly. With a pointed look, Gwydion warned him to speak cautiously with Merlin. Arthur got the message. He of course didn’t want to raise Merlin’s ire when currently he seemed to have taken a break from his demands. Would it last? Arthur wasn’t so sure. “How much do you remember of your past life as a god? Do you remember me?”

“I – I… I do, I think,” Merlin said slowly, and then he paled, and blinked. 

His eyes had returned to their normal blue. Arthur breathed out a sigh of relief, and he saw Gwydion visibly relax too. 

Merlin looked directly at Arthur as if seeing him for the first time; and in a way, he was since this was the first time Merlin had laid eyes on Arthur since he’d been reincarnated. “My nineteen years as a human…those memories are fading away. I’m forgetting them… I can’t… I don’t know what to do…” He said, taking long pauses. He looked lost.

Arthur went to him, embracing him. Merlin returned the hug, but the return pressure was weak as Merlin still seemed to be overwhelmed by the change of situation. But then Merlin’s attention was focused on his neck, he noticed. That was where the lynx marking Merlin’s father had given him was located.

Arthur pulled away quickly. “Merlin…”

Merlin’s eyes returned to an angry gold. “You couldn’t wait, could you?? You whore! I can’t believe you! You couldn’t hold out hope long enough…and here I am back, and you’ve been claimed already! By my own father! How fuckin’ dare you!” Merlin raged, pushing Arthur down to the floor.

Gwydion put himself in between Arthur and Merlin. “Stop it. Now,” he ordered his cousin. 

Stubborn as he was, Gwydion wouldn’t let Merlin past him to get to Arthur. Arthur was glad because the accusations Merlin had made hurt. He had done what he thought was the right thing at the time. He had thought there was no way of Merlin returning home as a god. He wanted to insure he was protected in the immortal world, and the claiming gave him that. If Merlin was truly himself, then he would understand Arthur’s need to protect himself. 

And if Merlin’s father, the powerful god that he was, offered to put Arthur under his direct protection then Arthur couldn’t refuse. How could he decline an offer from the god he considered like a father to him? He did the polite thing, and what would keep him safe as he continued to call the immortal world his beloved home.

“Arthur isn’t a whore,” Gwydion said, defending Arthur.

“Merlin, please,” Arthur told him earnestly. “I’m being honest when I say this. I’ve been with no one. Your father hasn’t…he hasn’t asked anything of me _like that_ as he knows how much I wanted to be with you first. And we can still have that.”

“Ah, a pathetic virgin. Of course,” Merlin snapped, rolling his eyes. 

Arthur wasn’t used to Merlin acting like this. It jarred him yet he continued to carry the hope that this was a temporary obstacle for Merlin. That this would blow over, that things would return to normal. 

Merlin told him harshly, “We can’t have that, Arthur. Bloody hell, that’s not how the claiming works. I won’t be able to have you first. The one to claim you, the one whose mark you possess, must take you first. It’s a law. And now you have to live with your own impatience. Because of what you agreed to, you have to live the rest of your life under my father’s thumb. I can never be anything but second-best.”

“You will never be second-best to me.” Arthur assured him resolutely.

“Ha! Let us see what you say this time next year, you poor deluded human,” Merlin shot back in a cold sarcastic voice. 

Arthur couldn’t stand how Merlin was speaking to him, as if small doses of hate and disappointment were seeped into each word Merlin spoke.

Then Merlin made a strong push to knock Gwydion down, putting red tendrils of magic behind the attack.

Gwydion quickly concentrated his power and forced Merlin to transform into a stone statue before Merlin could overpower him. 

Fortunately Merlin’s recent transformation back into a god was a disadvantage. His body was still adjusting to the extreme change after years – from his perspective – of not having these godly powers. That had to slow him down. Arthur recalled Merlin’s father telling him that Merlin turning back into a god would not be without complications and had the potential to kill him. 

It left Merlin mounting an effective magical assault more difficult especially now that Gwydion was prepared for Merlin acting out. Merlin’s initial attack of throwing them back had been unexpected, so Gwydion hadn’t been as ready then. 

“Is that true, Gwydion?” Arthur asked him. Merlin’s pronouncement of the law requiring that the one who claimed him, Hephaestion, must have sex with him first, had surprised him. He hadn’t been aware of that particular detail.

Gwydion nodded. “But you shouldn’t worry. My uncle is the god of all magic after all. With all the clout and power he has, he can bend the law a bit for you. He knows that you’d like to be with Merlin first. Some rules are meant to be broken, I say,” he reassured Arthur.

“I hope that’s true now.”

~ * ~

When they had returned, Gwydion lifted his spell and freed Merlin from his stone confines. 

Merlin looked unhappy after that, and he sought to apologize to Arthur. 

Arthur held up his hand. “Don’t. I know you didn’t mean it. I just hope you get better. You should go see your father.”

“It’s probably just a temporary thing that happens when you change from human to god. It makes you say things you wouldn’t say otherwise,” Gwydion said, though Arthur thought Gwydion’s tone sounded doubtful.

“But Muirden…” Merlin reminded them. “He was directly involved, wasn’t he? I can’t remember the attack too well…those details are fading away along with the other memories of my human life… but we all know how much of a bastard Muirden is. If he had a part to play, then this condition of saying such horrible things might be a real cause of concern.”

“Won’t argue with you there about Muirden. But we need to take one thing at a time,” Arthur said to him. “Just go meet with your father, Merlin. All right?” He attempted to sound reassuring.

“Yeah. You’ll get the help you need,” Gwydion chimed in.

Merlin stared at them, crossing his arms against his chest. “The both of you have the least reassuring faces I’ve ever seen,” He remarked. 

“That’s why I never dreamed of being an actor,” quipped Arthur.

“That’s one dream shattered for me,” said Gwydion with a dramatic sigh. 

Merlin shook his head, but he luckily relented and went to see his father.

As soon as Merlin had magically disappeared, Arthur shared an uneasy look with Gwydion. 

“Why do I have the feeling that wishing hard enough that this will be a temporary problem for Merlin won’t do any good?” Arthur voiced. 

Gwydion bit his lip. “Hopefully my uncle will give a clearer picture of the situation to Merlin. And maybe our doubts will be baseless.”

Arthur nodded. Yes, for now, that would have to do.

~ * ~ 

In one of the palace’s reading rooms, Arthur was reading a book detailing Arthurian legend, a popular story in all the human worlds. Gwydion had given it to him saying that he thought Arthur would like it. So Arthur had been reading it for the last couple of weeks. When he was young, before he was taken to live in the immortal world, he had heard about this tale of Arthur and his knights, and the sorcerer Merlin who mentored him. He had been curious about it, as any boy would be, even more so probably because he shared his name with the mythical King whose life ultimately proved to be a tragedy.

Except now, years later, Arthur thought it didn’t seem right for such a King to have a plain, common name like Arthur. He should have had a grander name, not a name that anyone could have. While he liked the idea of a man named Merlin supporting this King, reminding him of his – Arthur stopped that train of thought. 

Thinking about Merlin and how he had changed hurt… and Arthur worried that their friendship wouldn’t be the same again like before the energy storm. Not if Arthur had to be concerned about Merlin harming him, however unintentionally, with his godly powers. Arthur hated having to be wary around Merlin, to be hyperaware of the fact he was only human, and Merlin as a god could take him down if Arthur wasn’t on his guard. It was almost like with Muirden…and hell, Arthur didn’t want to compare Merlin to Muirden. That didn’t help his mood at all. 

Arthur turned his attention to Bran. He was on the other side of the room, the side closest to the door, practicing a difficult piece on his harp. Bran had been drawn to playing the string instrument after learning of his birth mother’s talent at it. Arthur remembered Bran’s excitement when he discovered that he was a natural at the harp. That even if he’d never known his mother, at least he had this one thing he shared with her. 

“How’s it coming?” Arthur asked him. 

Bran gave him a wry smile. “I’m getting there… just need some more time, but my harp is cooperating most of the time…”

“Well you only got that new harp last year,” Arthur reminded him. Bran had received the small golden harp as a present from Gwydion’s father, Arthur remembered. “Understandable you need time to get used to it.”

“Couldn’t have picked a harder piece for that,” Bran quipped with a quick grin. “But this harp is definitely amazing, one of the best. Hmm…let’s see,” he murmured.

Arthur heard him start playing a simpler melody. After hearing Bran practice for years now, Arthur couldn’t help but get a better sense of harp music…being able to tell when a melody was more intricate or of a simpler fare.

When Merlin entered the room, Arthur swore that the tension in the room increased. 

“Hi,” Merlin said quietly to Arthur, approaching him after talking with Bran. 

Arthur saw Bran’s unease with Merlin. Arthur, along with Gwydion, had relayed to him the details of Merlin speaking so uncharacteristically after he’d been healed and woken up. Arthur almost wished they hadn’t done that because of Bran’s reaction. But Gwydion wasn’t one to keep Bran in the dark, so Arthur had to accept that. And anyway, it was best to be informed ahead of time. Merlin might have another episode and Bran could be his next target. Arthur sincerely hoped that wouldn’t happen.

Arthur gave Merlin a small smile. “Hey. How did the talk with your father go?”

“Not well.” Merlin revealed with a sigh. He sat down across from Arthur, raising his elbows to rest on the table, and he swiped Arthur’s book. He frowned slightly as he skimmed through the book, probably not really reading it, Arthur thought. Maybe he was just looking for something to handle as he spoke to Arthur. Like an anchor to keep him from drifting.

“What did he say?” Arthur asked, uncertain whether he really wanted to, but his blasted curiosity was getting the better of him.

He looked subdued, desperately unhappy. “I informed my father about my problem. He told me that he believes my change back into a god is the cause of my abrupt bouts of unpleasant behavior. It’s not Muirden’s doing.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? Or maybe bad because it doesn’t give me another reason to hate him.”

“I wish it was a good thing,” Merlin said wistfully. “Because now, there is no clear cure for my… condition. This problem I’ll be stuck with for who knows how long. If Muirden had caused it, then we could pressure him to fix it, but now… it’s a real problem.”

“Your father did tell me that you could die from this transformation. At least you’re still alive, that’s good, right?” Arthur brought up in earnest, sounding as hopeful as he could muster.

“Not when I feel so miserable,” Merlin retorted bitterly. “And what’s worse, he said that if I choose to be with you in that way… that there’s the danger I’ll hurt you. That my condition may turn wild and overpower you during sex…and you might lose your free will completely, permanently.”

“Does your father have solid evidence of that?”

“In some texts, yes, a warning is present referring to such an event. I can’t risk it, Arthur. I can’t risk you losing yourself… we just…” Merlin paused, shaking his head. 

He rubbed his face with his hands. He set down his hands again. “To make things even better,” he started sarcastically, “I yelled at my father. Just right out yelled at him. I’ve never done that before. I’ve never been in that kind of confrontation with him. I accused him of lying, that he wanted you only for himself. That’s why he was making up these lies about me hurting you. Giving me reasons not to be with you. He did say he’d allow for me to be your first, overruling that law, but when I told him about my condition… my father became more wary, cautious. And Arthur, oh gods, Arthur… I swear I felt so much hate and frustration with him. I want to be with you so much, and now…” Merlin trailed off, sighing and looking trapped in a situation he wished he could be freed from.

“I’m only seventeen, Merlin! There’s still time. You only just returned. This ‘condition’ could be temporary. In a few months maybe, we’ll see how you are, and all this uncertainty will be all for nothing.”

Merlin bit his lip. He looked down at the book in front of him. “This book is all too sad.”

“King Arthur dies in the end.” Arthur said lightly, allowing Merlin to change the subject.

Merlin smiled at him. “Oh no, not that. I meant the part where the sorcerer Merlin gets trapped in a tree. That’s the sad bit.”

Arthur gave him a wry look. “Seriously?”

Merlin shrugged. “Well if not sad then wholly unpleasant,” he said dismissively with a quick grin.

Arthur saw the old Merlin coming back, making him hope that Merlin’s uncharacteristic outbursts were just a bad memory.

Then Merlin gave a long sigh. “You’ll be happier with my father, Arthur… I think that …” he paused.

“Merlin, why are you giving up like this? You just need some rest and time. Don’t sound so defeated!” Arthur nearly demanded of him, not liking how Merlin wasn’t giving himself the chance to get better.

Merlin shook his head. “No, Arthur. You see, the thing is, my father believes that my condition could be permanent. He looked me over magically, and he determined that it wasn’t something I could hope to go away if I wish it hard enough. There may be a treatment, I don’t know…but it’s not every day a human being gets transformed into a god. That’s what I was, Arthur. I had been reincarnated as a human. For these last nineteen years of my life, I was only human…and now I’m back as a god, but I’m not the same god I once was, Arthur. You know that. Don’t deny you have doubts. I can’t be like this, I can’t act this way. I can’t be the proper heir my father needs. I need to be calm, steady, as the next god of all magic. That’s how my father is. He never gets angry, you know that. He never yells without good reason. He just gets disappointed. I used to be like my father, Arthur, before the energy storm… and now whatever I am is something I can’t…I don’t understand it. I hate being this way!” He exclaimed, irritated. He shoved the book off the table in frustration, covering his face with his hands.

Arthur flinched involuntarily at the mention of the energy storm. He still felt guilty for his part in that, however much he hadn’t wanted Merlin to sacrifice himself like that for him. And now Merlin’s very personality was negatively impacted. If Arthur could have stopped Merlin from the sacrifice, he would have. If only he could turn back time…

“Merlin, there’s still time. It’s too soon to be assuming the worst,” Arthur voiced, wanting to inspire some confidence in Merlin.

But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. “And my father told me it’d be best that I take a while before returning to my official duties. Because of my condition of course.”

“You’ve been through a lot very recently, taking a beating from Muirden and everything. It’s understandable why your father wants you to rest and relax.”

“Yeah, but…” Merlin paused. Then he spoke, sounding nervous now. “Arthur, I think you should go…”

“Merlin, what is it?” Arthur asked in concern.

Merlin looked at him, his eyes a fathomless gold now. 

Arthur stood up quickly. “Shit. Merlin, no…”

But Merlin didn’t listen. He shot out his hand and magically threw Arthur back a few feet. 

“Bran!” Arthur exclaimed in warning.

But he could already see from across the room, Bran’s eyes were already narrowing. He had seen something was wrong with Merlin.

“Merlin, think of Gwydion…what he’ll say,” Arthur attempted to entreat him hurriedly when Merlin’s gold-eyed gaze settled on Bran.

“Shut up,” Merlin said to him, his face still turned away from him.

Then Arthur felt himself fall unconscious, mildly grateful that he hadn’t had something hard bludgeon him as sleep conquered him. It was too fast, he couldn’t stop it. He hoped Bran would be able to avoid Merlin. Arthur practiced sword fighting and other fighting skills with him, so he felt assured that Bran was good enough to defend himself. Or at least run for it because it was foolish for a human to take on a god, especially one as angry as Merlin was now. 

~ * ~

Arthur woke up in his room adjoined to Merlin’s father’s rooms.

“Hullo, feeling all right?” asked Pip with a smile. He was the official naiad-assistant for the family of Merlin’s Aunt Ceridwen. “Bran’s doing fine… just a stab wound, but Merlin got better and I made him heal Bran… um…”

“What?” Arthur asked.

“Merlin’s magical abilities aren’t functioning at the best level… understandably considering the abrupt change back. Merlin’s father told me about that. Bran has a bit of a fever. I helped with some of my powers, but they’re limited to water as you know. I think he’ll be all right. Best to let his body heal naturally. Having a fever is a good thing for humans, right? For a little while at least.”

Pip was the son of a naiad and a human. His naiad mother raised him along with all his brothers and sisters in a lake in one of the human worlds. In Pip’s view, Arthur understood, being able to reside in the world of immortals was a step up the social ladder for him. Even if he was simply an assistant, little better than Arthur himself. 

Yet Pip had special talents associated with water, which made him quite the asset. Pip could use the water that was a part of his very being to cool a hot fever. The magical naiad talent was more effective than the usual cool cloth over the brow. Arthur himself had experienced this talent of Pip’s when he had been ill as a boy, so he could attest to that.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m glad he’s fine. I was worried.” Arthur said honestly.

There was the fact that Gwydion had gone with his father to take care of some official business. So it was fortunate Pip came to help Bran and him when Gwydion couldn’t be there. Arthur cringed to think of Gwydion’s displeasure at Bran being harmed by Merlin. Even if Gwydion was aware of Merlin’s frustrating condition, he tended to be irrationally protective of Bran. He wouldn’t let that reason excuse Merlin’s behavior. Arthur couldn’t blame him. He too hated Bran getting hurt as Bran was like a younger – even if it was only by a year -- brother to him. 

“It was good I got there in time, and that Merlin returned to normal before the situation got out of control. Now Bran’s safely resting in his room…Geraint is looking after him. ”

“Geraint’s a lion,” Arthur stated flatly.

Pip nodded. “Yes, but he’s an excellent caretaker. Great listener – probably because he can’t really speak himself, but yet there is that charm to that old furry creature.”

“Right. Of course.”

The deep red colored lion with a golden mane had been a gift by Gwydion and Merlin’s grandfather to Gwydion on his sixteenth birthday a few months ago. The lion didn’t act like an aggressive lion, but more like a calm, steady-tempered dog. Yet Geraint the lion could roar like any true-blooded male lion. He was not one to be crossed. Though the lion was quite loyal to Gwydion and to Bran.

“So, you got back from seeing how Cerulean and Amelia were doing? How are they?” Arthur asked after the twin children of Merlin’s aunt. 

Merlin’s twin cousins were non-identical twins, and in their twenties. Cerulean had brown hair and such captivating blue eyes that it was unsurprising why his mother named him after a shade of blue. Amelia had flaming red hair to match her passionate personality and green eyes. This worked out well as Cerulean had a calmer temperament to balance his sister’s more impulsive inclinations.

“I can’t help but feel envious of them sometimes. It almost makes me want to return to live in a human world. Getting to visit all those museums and solving mysteries. All the tales they have to tell! I think being heirs of guarding creative magic is exciting – the way they go on about all they do.” Pip told Arthur enthusiastically.

“Right now with how Merlin is, being far away from here is a wise choice,” Arthur said grimly. 

Pip frowned and nodded. “I’m with you there.”

“I’ll go see how Bran is doing.” Arthur announced. “Thanks for your help.”

“Yeah, no problem. It’s what I’m here for,” Pip said smoothly, saluting him, as Arthur departed his room. 

~ * ~

“Merlin…” Arthur said to him tentatively when he saw him in the hallway.

“Fuck off, Arthur,” Merlin told him dismissively and continued on his way, walking in the opposite direction of Arthur.

“Merlin, you hurt Bran. Even with your condition, you can’t go hurting people…there’s only so much others can excuse. If you can try controlling it somehow?” Arthur suggested, wanting desperately to help his friend. He couldn’t give up on Merlin, not completely. He wouldn’t turn his back on Merlin though him hurting Bran – who was as good as a brother to Arthur – bothered Arthur deeply. He couldn’t deny that. 

Abruptly, Merlin turned around to face Arthur. “Why don’t you complain to my father about it? Since he claimed you and all. I’m sure he’ll listen to your stupid issues. Just leave me alone.” He told Arthur firmly. 

He promptly disappeared magically, preventing Arthur the courtesy of a response.

What worried Arthur the most was that Merlin’s eyes were their normal blue. He wasn’t under the thrall of his troublesome condition, and yet clearly the knowledge of his condition was taking its toll on him. And Merlin was pushing him away as a result.

Then Mary, Merlin’s druid friend, approached him in the hall. She looked upset about something.

“Mary, are you all right?” Arthur asked her in concern.

She smiled weakly at him, waving her hand. “Oh yes, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Did Merlin have a fight with you?” Arthur ventured.

Mary shook her head. “No, oh no. I heard about his condition, but no. I haven’t talked privately with him yet. I’m okay, I promise, Arthur. But thank you for your concern.”

Arthur didn’t quite believe her on the okay bit because something or someone had clearly rattled her.

“Okay, if you say so. But you know you can talk to me if there’s anything worrying you…” Arthur offered.

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Arthur. I really should go…” Mary said with a nod to herself and she swept past him.

Arthur looked thoughtfully after her, perplexed by her odd behavior.

Great. Now it wasn’t just Merlin who was acting unusually. 

~ * ~

The most familiar sound in Gwydion’s room was the song of the bluebirds. Merlin’s cousin took his creature symbol to heart, and had a sort of bluebird sanctuary in his chambers. Half of Gwydion’s room was full of trees with nesting cavities for the bluebirds. 

Bran had told him that sometimes he’d wake up to find a bluebird perched beside him on the bed, staring intently at him as if the bird wanted to play a staring contest first thing in the morning.

The pale grey walls of Gwydion’s room had a mural of a flock of bluebirds. The wall birds were magically bespelled to fly like moving images on the wall. Bran’s room had wall ravens – both black and white – with the same magical treatment too. 

Geraint was resting at the end of Bran’s bed when Arthur came into the room. The perceptive lion looked up as Arthur approached the bed. Arthur pet his thick mane, and Geraint gave a loud purr in response.

Sitting up in bed, Bran smiled at Arthur. 

“Hey, how are you?” Arthur asked Bran. “Pip told me you had a bit of a fever.”

“Yeah, but I’m feeling better now.”

Arthur pressed his hand to Bran’s brow. His forehead felt normal, the fever had passed from what Arthur could discern. Pip’s treatment of Bran had worked.

“Where did Merlin get you?” Arthur asked.

“It doesn’t matter…it’s healed, so…”

“Bran, please,” Arthur pressed him. He didn’t miss Bran’s tone of voice like he was hiding something. “You may be able to convince Pip that everything’s all right, but I want to know the whole truth. We’re in this together and I don’t want you hiding any pain you feel. When Gwydion returns, and that’s the case…”

“Well I figure Gwydion already isn’t going to be happy with Merlin for hurting me without just provocation.”

“But it’s better not to have him angrier if he sees evidence of the injury. I just think if there’s any way to decrease the degree of anger, you should take it. I admit I’m concerned about Merlin, and the thought of him potentially fighting his own cousin is an event I’d like to avoid. Or at least avoid a physical fight between them.”

Bran sighed. “All right. Um…here…” He said tentatively.

He pulled up his shirt, and there was long red-purplish scar running across his abdomen. Arthur could just imagine how much that had to hurt upon Merlin’s attack. 

“Merlin healed my internal organs, to stem the blood loss, but there’s still this scar. Looks bad, but it only feels itchy. More of an eyesore than painful, honestly.”

Arthur shook his head. “No, we have to fix this. You and I both know that proper magical healing means that you don’t have any scars. That you’re good as new.”

“I know…it’s just… the question will be asked about how I got injured, and I can’t just lie. But then Merlin will get lectured. And clearly Merlin isn’t having an easy time of it already. I do feel mad at him for hurting me, yes, but like you said he’s not himself. He should probably avoid contact with others.”

“Hmm…understatement,” Arthur noted lightly. “This isn’t something to debate about though. We’ll get Merlin and Gwydion’s grandfather to heal you completely. He does have the penchant to show up when he’s needed,” he mused.

And also since the former god of magic was now retired, he had more time on his hands and spent it looking after an interesting collection of animals. But if that failed, then Arthur was sure Merlin’s father Hephaestion would help, taking some time out of his busy schedule. Yet Arthur dreaded seeing Hephaestion’s reaction to learning who had hurt Bran. 

There was Merlin and Gwydion’s Aunt Ceridwen too. She was like a mother to Arthur as she was to Merlin since she resided in the immortal world whereas Merlin’s birth mother lived far away. Yet Arthur wasn’t familiar with Ceridwen’s schedule so he wouldn’t know where to find her. In contrast, due to the claiming and Arthur working for Hephaestion as a result, he had to be aware of the current god of magic’s day-to-day schedule.

Upon Arthur’s urging, Bran climbed out of bed and Geraint followed after them as they sought out the retired god.

Fortunately Merlin and Gwydion’s grandfather did appear before them in the hallway.  
He had an endearing-looking baby ring-tailed lemur attached on his arm. The lemur’s golden eyes stared at them with curiosity.

“And how are you, Arthur, Bran?” Merlin’s grandfather asked them. His wise blue eyes probably guessing what they wished of him. Arthur wouldn’t be surprised.

“Good day, My Lord. Bran needs some healing,” Arthur told him, cutting straight to the point.

Bran nodded. “Yes, I would appreciate it if you could help.”

“Of course. Arthur, if you could hold my lemur while I concentrate on the healing?” He asked. “Poor creature lost her mother. She’s quite content to get as much physical touch as she can get.”

“All right?”Arthur said uncertainly. He’d never carried such a creature, but it looked so small. It couldn’t be much trouble, right?

Arthur took the offered lemur into his arms and the baby lemur wrapped her hands around his neck, her long ringed tail coiling about his upper arm.

If Arthur had been a girl, he’d probably be tempted to coo at the furry monkey-like creature as she looked at him with rapt attention. But he wasn’t a girl, so of course he would do no such thing as ‘coo’. So he settled for clearing his throat.

“She certainly isn’t shy,” Arthur commented as Geraint looked rather interested in the lemur. 

Arthur pet the lion on the head, hoping his interest didn’t translate into wanting to eat the lemur. But Geraint was well-trained – well, enough not to jump on Arthur and grab his lemur ‘meal’ impulsively. 

“Does the lemur have a name?” Bran asked.

“Her name is Belle.” The retired god said. “Now, Bran, show me where you’re hurt.”

Bran pulled up his shirt to reveal the ugly scar Arthur had seen.

Arthur was relieved that the former god of magic didn’t inquire about the case of the scar before he set about healing it. A golden glow appeared within his palm and he swept it over the injured site. 

A moment later and the scar was completely gone. No physical evidence remained of what had happened to Bran.

Yet as Bran worried, Merlin’s grandfather did ask about the story behind the scar after the healing.

Bran told him quietly.

Understandably, Merlin’s grandfather looked especially dismayed. 

“It’s Merlin’s condition, My Lord. It’s making him do and say things that I’m sure he regrets very much once he’s his normal self,” Arthur defended Merlin quickly. 

He wasn’t quite sure why he still felt the need to defend Merlin even though he had been a victim too of Merlin’s actions. Merlin had used magic against him, but compared to Merlin stabbing Bran, it didn’t seem as bad. 

Then there was Merlin saying such terrible words to him, words that Arthur never imagined Merlin would say to him. To call him a whore of all things?

Yet Arthur didn’t feel right about turning his back on the years of close friendship he had with Merlin. Just because of one day of Merlin being a bit of a nightmare wouldn’t deter Arthur from defending a good friend of his.

“Yes. I’m aware of this unfortunate condition. But for my grandson to attack a human is upsetting. No matter his condition, this behavior cannot be tolerated. You did not provoke him, correct, Bran?”

Bran shook his head. “No, My Lord. I swear. He just came after me, and managed to stab me with a sharp dagger. Fortunately he returned back to normal before he could injure me further. And luckily Pip came by to help me.”

“Very well. Thank you, Bran, Arthur. I will speak to Merlin.”

With that, he took the affectionate lemur from Arthur and he left them with a nod.

Arthur exchanged concerned looks with Bran.

~ * ~

As they walked to the hall for dinner, Arthur broached the sore subject. He could see Merlin looked very unhappy, unsurprisingly, but he seemed to be his usual self. His eyes weren’t a blinding gold at least.

“Merlin, I heard you attacked Gwydion. I thought you talked with your grandfather? Did he not help you?”

Merlin shrugged. “Gwydion could defend himself,” he said. “He punched me in the face, saying that was for hurting Bran. I was annoyed Gwydion returned so soon with his father. I hate looking at his face and seeing him resembling me.”

Arthur raised his brow, staring at him oddly. Before, Merlin was never bothered by Gwydion’s clear physical similarities to him as if they could be twins born a few years apart. This condition brought out an unexpected side of Merlin, undoubtedly.

“Well you were going to have to confront your cousin sooner or later. You think an extra day would have helped you in calming down?” Arthur wondered, unable to help the disbelief in his voice.

“Maybe.”

“Merlin…how did things go with your grandfather?” Arthur asked him again.

“Don’t want to talk about it,” Merlin muttered.

“Well if you went after Gwydion after your talk, then I guess it didn’t go well at all?”

“Oh look! The dining hall. I’m starving. Come on, Arthur,” Merlin swiftly changed the subject and beckoned Arthur to come with him into the hall.

Fine, Arthur thought. If Merlin wanted to be stubborn like that, then all right. But if Merlin’s condition continued on for weeks, then Arthur’s optimism and patience would surely get worn down.

~ * ~

Arthur had an inkling that this dinner would be a disaster, or a near thing, but ultimately, Merlin wasn’t the cause of the evening going south. 

Besides him and Merlin, Mary, Merlin’s father, Uncle James, and Aunt Ceridwen were at the table. Merlin’s grandfather rarely had dinner with them except on special occasions. Gwydion, Bran and Pip elected to eat dinner in Gwydion’s rooms. Arthur hadn’t been sure why Pip chose to be with Gwydion and Bran. Of course Gwydion was angry with Merlin over the assault on Bran. Hence the boycott of this dinner. And Bran usually stuck with Gwydion, preferring to be with his oldest friend over others.

With Pip, Arthur guessed that maybe he just wanted to have an informal dinner with a smaller group versus the stress of being on his best behavior in a dinner with older gods as well as his employer, Merlin’s Aunt Ceridwen. Or he could simply be making his opinion known about the Bran attack by going against Merlin. Either reason fit.

“I heard you and Bran had a small altercation,” Merlin’s father brought up, a clear note of disapproval in his voice.

Arthur looked sharply at Merlin, who was seated at his right, to see his clenched jaw and the clear amount of restraint Merlin was trying his best to exercise.

“That’s right, Father,” Merlin admitted like it was quite painful.

“I know it has only been a day, but I can’t allow you to continue to act like this. Your uncle’s mother was human – what do you think she would say about what you did? You must control your condition, son. I’m sure we can find a way to help you with a treatment, but the greatest show of strength is to defeat a difficult enemy,” said Hephaestion in an almost earnest voice, trying to get through to Merlin, Arthur imagined.

“We will help you as best as we can,” Ceridwen said.

“Though I fear it will take a while for Gwydion to forgive you. You know how important it is for you and my son to cooperate with each other in the future. For your sake, I hope Gwydion will come around.” James told him. 

Merlin frowned, not looking too optimistic about Gwydion’s change of heart. 

“I think we should discuss the fact that Mary is pregnant,” Merlin said swiftly and, rather viciously in Arthur’s opinion, changed the subject. “She’s my friend, Father. I know mother doesn’t live here, and she’s not much of a wife for you, but this is ridiculous. But I guess the problem is solved now! You’ll have another son to replace me because I’m defective! Congratulations!” Merlin said sarcastically.

Arthur wished he could spell Merlin to make him mute. Even if Mary could be pregnant, this was not the place to bring it up in front of others. And Mary looked horrified; implicating that Merlin’s words might just be true after all.

Was this what had upset Mary when Arthur had seen her earlier? Had she just learned she was unexpectedly pregnant?

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think it would happen… I – I’ll get rid of it… I never meant to hurt you, Merlin. I would never want a child of mine to replace you… I’m so sorry.” Mary said tearfully.

Merlin’s father Hephaestion put up his hand. “There will be no talk of getting rid of the child, Mary,” he told her. “I admit I didn’t act rightly but I cannot regret what I did if it will bring a child into the world. But you will be always my heir, Merlin, don’t doubt that. That fact will not change and despite your condition, I have the greatest faith in your ability to overcome it.”

“Why did you do it?” Merlin demanded. “What was the purpose of it? Why Mary my friend when you can have anyone else?”

Ceridwen intervened, “Really. It isn’t the time or place to discuss this.”

“It’s all right. I’ll answer,” Merlin’s father said. “I chose Mary because I could trust her not to use my time with her as an opportunity to get as many special favors as she can from me. I don’t know if you fully understand how most goddesses and nymphs can be – ambition can drive them to take advantage of my position and power. It took me quite a while to finally decide on your mother, Merlin, to bear you, my first child. I knew she was noble enough not to abuse the favor I bestowed upon her,” he explained. “If I were a stronger man maybe I could be okay without female companionship on a regular basis. I’m sorry to disappoint you, son. Yet this doesn’t excuse you harming Bran and Arthur too, though I know he won’t admit it. I can see it in your eyes, Arthur, that you haven’t been left untouched. I have no doubt it pains you to see Merlin like this. You are a good friend to stay by him,” Hephaestion praised him.

“Thank you,” Arthur said softly, feeling a bit embarrassed for the compliment even as he felt he wasn’t doing enough for Merlin.

“If you steal my friend for ‘female companionship’, I’d appreciate you telling me about it first, Father. Before she gets pregnant,” Merlin gritted out.

“I should go,” Mary said, looking quite embarrassed at this whole conversation centered around her. Arthur saw her face reddening. “I’m not feeling very hungry. I apologize, My Lord.” She spoke to Merlin’s father. 

“It’s all right,” he assured her. 

Merlin simply continued to look annoyed.

And with that, she swept out of the hall in a rush.

“Merlin, please, just let it go,” Arthur hissed at him. “Whatever your father or Mary has done – it wasn’t to intentionally spite you. You realize that deep down, I know you do. All of us just want to help you like your aunt said.” He spoke earnestly, determined to get Merlin to see reason and calm down.

“Why should I listen to you, Arthur?” Merlin said to him darkly. “My father’s claimed you! Anything you say or do, he’ll be behind it. You’re his puppet, damnit!” Merlin declared, his eyes glowing a harsh gold.

“That’s not true! You know that’s not true.” Arthur retorted, defending himself.

“Want to prove that to me?” Merlin challenged, looking like he was rumbling for a fight.

“Stop this at once!” Merlin’s father raised his voice, standing up. “Merlin, you will apologize to Arthur.”

“No, I won’t!” Merlin answered him defiantly.

Then before the argument could turn into a full-blown fight, something invisible yet strong forced Hephaestion back into his seat. He was knocked unconscious before he even realized what was happening, Arthur thought anxiously.

Then Ceridwen started coughing hard, covering her nose as if there was an odor that was irritating her nose. 

His gold eyes returning to a downcast blue, Merlin stared in disbelief at his unconscious father. Now Arthur saw Hephaestion’s face turn an almost grey color, and blood trickled down his nose yet he hadn’t been punched. What was going on?

“Father?” Merlin asked, sounding at a loss at seeing his father in such an unresponsive, defenseless state.

Then to Arthur’s growing concern, Merlin started to cough like his aunt. 

“What is it?” Arthur asked Merlin’s uncle who seemed to be as unaffected as Arthur himself by the mystery odor. An invisible toxic gas maybe?

But it was Ceridwen who spoke, struggling to between coughs, “Remember what he told you, James? The cost that Hephaestion…agreed…to… oh, Hephaestion…oh…James, it’s up to you…” she told him.

Arthur caught the confusion on Merlin’s face when his aunt discussed the cost his father had agreed to. So at least he wasn’t alone in not knowing about it. Though the not knowing made Arthur want to find out what this apparent secret entailed. Especially since it led to this very worrisome situation. 

Merlin’s aunt fell unconscious, not able to overcome whatever invisible force or gas was plaguing her. Merlin followed after her, slumping in his seat as his eyes closed. Fortunately Merlin nor his aunt looked as bad as Merlin’s father who looked like all the vitality had been sucked out of him, lines of blood flowing down from his nose. In contrast, Merlin and his aunt simply looked like they were put into a deep slumber of which Arthur hoped they would both awaken. Hephaestion’s prognosis didn’t look as good, concerning Arthur.

“Arthur, we don’t have much time. I need you to do something for me. There’s this sword, made of gold, called the Sword of Avalon. You need to retrieve it and make it stop this…”

“Wait. A sword is doing this? But how? And why are you and I okay?”

“Because the sword is targeting full-blooded immortals, not humans like you. Though I do not have human blood in me most of the time, my human mother’s blood returns in moments of need to protect me. The sword is powerful, Arthur, so powerful that it doesn’t simply need to stab someone to cause pain and suffering. The sword can release toxic gases from a distance…it’s in the wrong hands now, and you must take it for your own. Otherwise I fear Hephaestion, Ceridwen and Merlin may die for good. The sword is one of the few weapons a human can use to kill a god or goddess…”

“Are you sure the sword is still here?”

Merlin’s Uncle James nodded. “Yes. The intruder who possesses the sword now is still within the palace. You must hurry, Arthur.”

Arthur nodded. “I’ll get the sword. I promise,” he said.

He ran out of the hall.

~ * ~

“Who are you?”

“My name is Mordred.”

“I will not let you have that sword.”

“Are you willing to pay the price for getting the sword?” The man calling himself Mordred said.

“You are hurting those I care for. I can’t allow you to get away with this!”

“Fine. Here.” Mordred said with a shrug.

Arthur stared at him when he dropped the sheathed sword to the ground. Warily, Arthur walked forward to pick it up.

Mordred smirked. “Good luck.” He wished him in a very insincere voice. He disappeared.

Arthur removed the sword from its sheath. The Sword of Avalon looked unreal as Arthur had never seen a sword made of such rich gold. He doubted slightly if it worked properly because gold wasn’t a common metal for swords. But Merlin’s uncle had said it could kill even the gods with its toxic gases…then maybe anything was possible with the sword. He told the sword to stop hurting others, unsure of how else to do it. The command appeared to work as he felt the static atmosphere surrounding the sword decline, the glow of the blade subsiding. The sword was quiet. Hopefully everyone who had been harmed by the sword would be okay now.

Unexpectedly, he felt the ground shift beneath him and a force pulling him somewhere. Mordred said…he’d pay a price for getting the sword. Of course this all seemed too easy…this Mordred had something up his sleeve. Arthur could sense that Mordred wasn’t a god, but just a human.

Why was Mordred doing this in the first place?

But he had little time to consider all this as the reality around him faded away.

~ * ~

Arthur woke up in a big field of grass. He distinctly felt like he had forgotten something, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Something horrible had happened…and oh fuck. The Sword of Avalon wasn’t in his grasp anymore. What was he forgetting? Someone had bloody messed with his memory. What if it was that Mordred? Damnit.

He felt a small wet lump at the back of his head. Bringing his hand back, Arthur was dismayed to see blood coating his fingers. He had suffered a concussion, he otherwise felt all right besides being very confused about where he was and what had happened. Losing this all-powerful sword just made everything so much worse. What if Mordred had it?

Arthur wondered if he was living his own twisted version of Arthurian legend what with him dealing with a Mordred. He really just wanted to go home now. And he could sense that he was in a human world. Even a human like him without born magical talents could sense the differences between the immortal world and a human world after living in the immortal world for years.

Now Arthur was a bit lost. He needed to figure out what to do because as far as he knew, he was on his own far from home in a different world completely. He bet Merlin and his family were occupied with recovering, and potentially Hephaestion could be stuck in a coma. Certainly they wouldn’t have the time now to worry about Arthur. 

So he stood up, wavering on his feet a bit as his balance was shaky, and he began to walk across the seemingly endless meadow. He smelled the fresh breeze coming from the sea, and he was positive there was a castle-like structure off in the distance. 

~ * ~

Merlin stared in disbelief as he saw his father disappear before his eyes. 

He had been sitting there by his father’s bedside for at least an hour hoping that his father would wake up. That if he held his hand and apologized again and again…that his father would wake up and be better. That it would be as if nothing had ever happened. Yet that was a lie he couldn’t delude himself into thinking.

Merlin had learned that Mary had been adversely affected by the Sword of Avalon too like himself, his father and his aunt. And Merlin felt terrible for her. The child – what would have been his half-brother -- she carried had died, the power of the sword had been too strong for such a small soul not yet born. His grandfather was still in a coma.

Along with his Uncle James, Gwydion, Bran and Pip had fared well enough against the sword’s attack due to their human blood. The human blood of Gwydion’s paternal grandmother had protected him.

Unfortunately Arthur had gone missing, taking the Sword of Avalon with him as far as Merlin’s uncle was aware.

His attention was refocused on himself when he saw his hand growing transparent. He was beginning to fade away exactly like his father had.

What was going on?

“I can help you.” An unfamiliar male voice spoke from behind him.

Merlin turned around, his right and left forearms were now gone, vanished. He would not panic. He wouldn’t.

“Who are you?” Merlin asked. 

The twenty-something man before him was a ghost but though he was transparent, he was not devoid of color. His hair was a shade of orange that matched the exact color of an orange fruit in Merlin’s opinion. His eyes were pale brown in color. His whole expression spoke of sadness and past regrets.

“My name is Riordan… I was your father’s friend. I’m not surprised he never mentioned me… considering what I…anyway, like I said, I can help you before you cease to exist.”

This peaked Merlin’s interest. While he hadn’t known his father’s friend was named Riordan, Merlin recalled a living relative of his going by the same name.

His uncle’s human mother had three human children – Kahlan, Caspian and Corin. Uncle James had been her youngest and the only child she conceived with Merlin’s grandfather. The current King of Avalon in one of the human worlds, Robin, was a direct descendant of Caspian. The Golden Age reign of the Isle of Avalon had begun with the mother of Merlin’s uncle, Queen Caillean, during Roman times. And even in the 22nd century, the people of Avalon revered the royal family of Avalon despite the change time brings. Avalon remained steady and true as a protected kingdom for magic wielders. 

And Robin had a nephew named Riordan, interestingly enough. After Robin’s sister Alice died soon after childbirth, Robin adopted Riordan as his own. Now, ten years later, Riordan was accepted as Robin’s son. Most seemed to have forgotten that he was truly his nephew. 

“Were you my father’s human companion? Is that who you are?”

Riordan nodded. “I owe it to him to help you since you’re his son.”

“What’s happened then? What has caused him to fade away? And me too very soon?”

His legs were beginning to disappear and Merlin wondered how he was still standing.

“Something awful has happened… and I’m sorry, Merlin, but I don’t think you’ll ever see your father again. Reality has been altered. Now, your father died when he was a ten-year old boy. You were never born…you are being removed from this new reality as a result.”

“What? But how?” Merlin paused. He didn’t have time now to learn the particulars of his father’s death. Riordan would surely tell him later, he hoped. “How can you help me?”

“I can give you a chance to still live with your memories intact. You will live in a human world, and I think you’ll have some magic, but you will lose your godly status. Your family will not remember you, but you will remember them… it’s that or ceasing to exist. I’ll be with you to help and guide you,” Riordan said. “Do you agree to do this?”

“I’ll take anything over ceasing to exist. Yes, I agree.” Merlin said. “How did you die? Why did my father never even give me your name?”

“It wasn’t his fault…I had this bleeding illness not even the magic of the gods could remove permanently. One day…I died.”

“Did you cut yourself on accident and it wouldn’t stop bleeding?”

“No. Please don’t,” Riordan stopped abruptly, looking anxious. “I killed myself…” he confessed quietly. 

He showed Merlin the inside of his wrists, both of which bore deep scars of cuts into the skin. The scars hadn’t left him even after death, even as he lived as a ghost. 

“It wasn’t your father’s fault,” he was quick to say. “When I died, I was a young man, twenty fours years of age, and I was stupid…and I’m trying to make up for it now. I will help you, I promise.”

“So my father didn’t talk about you because you had committed suicide?”

“Yes. That’s it,” Riordan agreed. 

Merlin was suspicious that Riordan was too earnest in wanting Merlin to make that conclusion when the truth was something Merlin hadn’t even grazed the surface of. But everything was a mess now. His father was gone and he himself was continuing to disappear. There just wasn’t the time to delve into Riordan’s – and by extension his father’s – long ago past. 

“I hope you’re okay working with me since I killed myself. I’ll be all you have though.” Riordan told him, giving him a half-smile. 

Maybe he realized he wasn’t doing the best job at endearing himself. Merlin of course couldn’t help but give pause that he was dealing with a ghost who died by suicide and for reasons still unclear to him. Yet Riordan was his father’s old friend and companion. Merlin could see it in Riordan’s eyes. He wasn’t lying about his friendship with his father. So Merlin could only trust his instincts. And who knew, maybe his infuriating condition – that had caused him to say such terrible things to his father before disaster struck at dinner -- would go away if he went with Riordan, losing his godly status as he said. Maybe that would be the antidote Merlin needed. He really hoped so. He hated the thought that the last words his father heard from him were full of anger and frustration. The guilt and regret were a numbing mix of pain and grief he couldn’t shake.

Merlin sighed. “It’s fine. My friend, Arthur, he’s missing. Do you know where he is?”

Riordan shook his head a little too quickly. “No, I don’t. Are you ready to start your new life?” He asked.

Merlin wanted to say no, but he knew he had to just jump in. The alternative of not just dying but ceasing to exist entirely was too awful. He at least wanted to have the opportunity of living life even if his family would not remember him. A heavy price, but one he simply had to accept and cope with. 

“I’m ready,” Merlin declared.

Before his world shifted, Merlin wished his father had forgiven him for what he had said at the dinner. And now, he may never see his father again. No one would.

If he could find Arthur…if Arthur would remember him, then maybe he could survive this change after all.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Arthur reached the gate to the castle where a tall broad man with short-cropped blond hair.

“Good evening. I am Sir Percival, Knight of the Kingdom of Avalon. Please state your name.”

“Hi,” said Arthur uncertainly, feeling intimidated by the tall strong-looking man. Even if this knight was only human, Arthur knew he’d have a time trying to defeat him in a fight. “My name is Arthur Pendragon.”

Sir Percival gave him a careful once-over, then he looked startled, which made Arthur nervous in turn.

The knight consulted the electronic tablet he had in his hands. After a few moments of perusing the device, a grim expression overtook his face.

He peered at Arthur again.

“Arthur Pendragon, you say?”

Arthur nodded. “Yes. I’m a little lost. I don’t live in this world…I er…I serve the god of magic’s family.”

“That’s a lie,” Percival cut in sharply. 

“What?” Arthur asked, confused. “It’s the truth. I’ve lived in the immortal world for most of my life.”

“I don’t imagine His Lordship Cerulean would ever allow you to serve in his household. Considering what you did. And judging by your unchanged appearance, you have access to time travel technology. You don’t know how long we’ve been waiting for you.”

Arthur stared at him. What was going on? Why was he talking about Cerulean, Merlin’s cousin and the son of Merlin’s aunt, like he was the god of all magic?

“I don’t understand. What did I do?” Arthur wanted to know.

Two more knights – both brown of hair and with dark eyes that didn’t help to soothe Arthur’s growing fear – appeared beside Sir Percival.

Sir Percival declared, “Arthur Pendragon, you are under the arrest for the murder of King Robin’s ancestral relative and His Lordship Cerulean’s uncle, Hephaestion, who you killed in cold blood.”

“What? No! That’s not true!” Arthur cried out, horrified at the charge laid out against him. 

Sir Percival handcuffed him regardless of his denial.

“Killing a ten-year old boy. What is wrong with you?” One of the brown-haired knights remarked in disapproval.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Arthur protested.

“Child-killer,” the other dark-haired knight muttered as he and his partner walked behind Sir Percival and Arthur. Arthur heard him, and wished he had awful hearing so he hadn’t. 

Arthur wanted to wake up so badly. Because this had to be a nightmare.

And he would wake up. 

He had to believe that.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~


End file.
